


i'm a good person, right?

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M, Multi, Siren Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 02:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Lance was a good person. He looked both ways before crossing the street. He said his prayers every night before bed. He recycled. So why was this happening to him?“What’re you-” His voice cracked and he paused, swallowing hard. “What are you doing home?”





	i'm a good person, right?

**Author's Note:**

> ok  
> 1\. sorry for my absence from writing in general… i just finished high school and it has been a bad mental and physical health year. things ARE looking up lately though which is why i’m trying to write more now  
> 2\. i promise i’m still working on stormy waters but. listen i have to write siren lance. i have to do it i've got to right the imbalance i created in the world. don’t worry tho this one will be like. 3 chapters at the most i think. i’ll get back to stormy waters soon  
> (you: does that mean you’re gonna write siren hunk-  
> me: YOU KNOW WHAT maybe. shut up) 
> 
> (by the way the fic title is from one of gregg's hangout scenes in the videogame night in the woods. not that it's super relevant, just a fun fact)

“Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Lance?” Hunk asked, putting one elbow on the back of the couch and leaning over to see him. “Pidge and Allura said they’ll meet us downtown for lunch before they go to the movie. You gonna miss out on that?”

Lance faked a sneeze. “Sorry, man, I’m just not feeling up to it,” he said, pulling the knitted blanket up over his chest. 

“Are you  _ sure  _ sure?” Hunk prodded, giving him the puppy dog eyes. “I even got Keith to stop hiding in his room and come out with us!”

“Only because I’m the one person in this apartment who drives,” came the sarcastic reply from the kitchen, where Keith was sitting on the counter and messing with his phone.

“Fuck you, I get motion sickness when I  _ walk  _ too fast,” Hunk said easily, shooting Keith a smirk over one shoulder before turning back to Lance. 

“So we should be back in an hour and a half, okay? Try to get some sleep,” he said sympathetically.

“Sorry I can’t come with you guys,” Lance answered, only half truthfully.

Hunk made a shushing motion. “Don’t be silly, it’s not your fault you’re sick! Allura and Pidge will understand. See you later.”

“Bye, Lance,” came Keith’s voice from somewhere near the front door. Lance couldn’t see him with the back of the couch in the way.

“Bye,” he replied, and listened to the door shut and the sound of Hunk and Keith’s conversation fading away down the hall.

After he couldn’t hear them anymore, he counted-  _ one minute, two minutes-  _ and when neither of his roommates came back looking for a phone or wallet they’d left behind, Lance sprung into action.

He threw off the blanket, leaving it flung over the back of the couch, and almost tripped over his own feet on the way to the bathroom.

Shutting the door firmly behind him, he checked the bathroom’s lone window, making sure it was shut tight despite the warm early-summer air, and finally turned to the shower.

“Just you and me now,” Lance told it. The shower didn’t answer. Not that he had expected it to. He was just getting carried away with himself, reveling in the knowledge that he was totally alone and not having to worry about someone coming home at any moment. 

He yanked the shower handle, setting it to hot, and pulled off his shirt and jeans while steam slowly filled the room. 

 

~

 

_ A memory came to him while he was standing there. He was younger, maybe fourteen, and in the car with his sister Amelia. _

_ “That’s the library,” she said, pointing out a tall brick building on the left as they drove past it. “It’s not too far from my place, so you can walk there whenever you want. And the high school is about two blocks over down that street.” _

_ Lance absorbed everything, drinking in the sights of the city as much as he could. _

_ “That over there is my favorite cafe,” Amelia said. Lance peered out the window at the little building with the blue awning as she went on, “I’ll take you there sometime. They make good milkshakes.” _

_ He didn’t say anything, and after a minute she poked her elbow into his side. When he looked over, her eyes were shining behind her red-framed glasses. _

_ “Hey there,” she said. “You doing okay?” _

_ “Yeah,” Lance told her. “It’s just… really big here.” _

_ “I get it,” said Amelia, turning her gaze back to the road. “It’s a lot bigger than the island.” _

_ The island was a small place, only four or five acres, one of dozens in the San Juan archipelago. It was where Lance had lived his whole life until now, and where Amelia had lived until two years ago, when she turned twenty and moved to the mainland.  _

_ And now he was moving in with her. _

_ It wasn’t like he had never been to the mainland before, but the prospect of actually living there had Lance pressed against the window, staring at every interesting place in anticipation of visiting them later. _

_ Amelia had the radio on, some local news podcast where two women were talking about politics. Lance reached over and switched the stations until a song he knew filled the car. _

_ He smiled widely, and bounced in his seat, opening his mouth to sing along to Beyonce. _

_ Abruptly, his sister jabbed the power button to the radio. Lance looked over to complain, but the words died in his throat when he saw the stricken look on Amelia’s face. _

_ “Lance,” she whispered. She looked back at the road, but her hands gripped the wheel tightly enough to tell him she was upset. “You  _ can’t  _ sing.” _

_ “What, not even in the car?” Lance knew he wasn’t supposed to sing, but surely with all the windows rolled up…? _

_ “No!” she admonished. “This car isn’t soundproof. People can hear you.” _

_ Amelia glanced over briefly, seeing her brother’s crushed expression, and sighed.  _

_ “I’m sorry to yell. It’s just… It was just really hard to convince Mom and Dad to let you move in with me. They’re worried, you know? They wanted you to wait until you were an adult, like me. And I just think it’s really important that you get to go to high school with other kids your age besides your family. So I just… don’t want anything to go wrong. I panicked.” _

_ Lance looked up at his sister, noticing the way she chewed on her bottom lip when she was worrying. _

_ “It’s okay,” he told her. “I’ll learn not to sing anymore.” _

_ She smiled at him gratefully. _

_ “I know it’s hard after being able to be as loud as you wanted back home. You don’t have to hold it back  _ all  _ the time, like it’s okay if nobody can hear you. I made sure to get an apartment with thick walls. You’ll get used to it after a while, don’t worry.” _

_ Lance nodded, determined to show his sister he would be okay. _

 

_ ~ _

 

Amelia was right, Lance thought as he stepped under the burning-hot shower spray. He’d gotten used to it pretty fast, and the next few years had passed uneventfully.

He’d never lost himself and unleashed the voice he knew had the power to capture souls and seduce the stonehearted. Not once. He’d been responsible, just like Amelia. Maybe someday, if he was in a good relationship, he’d decide it was time to tell them about his family, and maybe then that person would let him sing to them. Maybe. But until then, he stamped down that part of himself, kept quiet until the rare moments he was totally alone or with his sister.

He’d gotten used to it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

Lance sang as loudly as he dared while he shampooed his hair. It felt amazing, and he sang a little bit louder. 

He moved through any and every song he could think of, from Michael Jackson to Kesha to that song from the Disney movie that his younger brother liked but he absolutely hated. It had been almost two weeks since the last time he’d been able to sing, and at this point Lance didn’t really care  _ what  _ he was singing as long as he got to do it.

Eventually the water started getting cold, so he had to get out, but he was too caught up to stop the music now.

_ “She said her name was Bella Belle,” _ he sang to himself while he toweled off his hair and pulled on his shorts.  _ “Soft and smooth like caramel...” _

He slid his T-shirt over his head.

_ “Stop and think ‘bout what you got! The girl is trouble, can’t ya tell? Oh, her name is Bella Belle, and one by one the boys all yell…” _

He reached for the bathroom doorknob, slowly trailing off but still audible...

_ “Let me be your fella, ‘cause you’re lookin’ mighty swell, Belle!” _

...And came face-to-face with another person.

Lance froze, his voice trailing off to a strangled squeak.

Keith stared back, purple eyes cloudy.

Finally, Lance’s body caught up with his brain and he let out a panicked yelp, scrambling backward and almost falling as his foot slid on a towel that had fallen off the rack.

“Oh god what are you doing here?” he gasped, as Keith blinked very slowly at him and stuck one hand out. Lance reached out for it without even thinking, and the other boy helped him right himself wordlessly.

And now he saw that Keith wasn’t alone in the hallway. Hunk stood right behind him, both of them looking at Lance with something like awe on their faces. 

He’d lost track of the time. 

God fucking  _ damn it all. _

Well, this was it. Time to find a new place to live. And a new job. And a new circle of friends. Maybe he should enter the Witness Protection program. That sounded entirely reasonable.

 

Lance was a good person. He looked both ways before crossing the street. He said his prayers every night before bed. He recycled. So why was this happening to him?

“What’re you-” His voice cracked and he paused, swallowing hard. “What are you doing home?”

 

Lance could see Hunk’s jacket piled on the kitchen counter, a dark stain spread across the chest. His brain hyperfocused on it, taking any excuse to think about something other than the fact that he was standing  _ very  _ close to both of his roommates and they didn’t show any inclination towards backing up.

“Uh. I can, um. Wash that. I’ll bring it down to the laundry room,” he said.

Keith stared at him. Lance really wished they would blink.

“Yes. I’m gonna go downstairs, and you two-” he looked around in desperation- “are going to bed. Yeah. You need a nap and I need some alone time.”

His roommates did not move.

“Oh god, I really have to order you to do it, don’t I,” said Lance, mostly to himself, feeling the bubble of panic finally start to form in his chest as the situation really sunk in. 

“Uh.” It took a few tries and some clearing his throat, but eventually he got his voice back to its supernatural resonance. 

_“Go to bed. Please.”_   Lance pointed down the hall towards their bedrooms, and after a minute Hunk and Keith moved to obey him.

Lance waited until the doors had shut behind them. Then he headed over to pick up Hunk’s jacket from the counter and the detergent from under the kitchen sink and, after pausing to slip his shoes on by the door, fled down the hall of their building to the elevator like his life depended on it.

 

~

 

He’d left his phone upstairs by the couch, but like hell was he going back to get it now. The other two people down there were giving him weird looks, no doubt wondering about the weird guy having a panic attack next to the washers, but Lance couldn’t really bring himself to care right now.

What was he going to do if he had his phone, anyway? Play some fucking Candy Crush? Call up his family back on the island and go  _ hey, Mama, it’s your son Lance, I’m doing fine, and by the way I think I may have accidentally put two of my closest friends in thrall just now, so if you could just come up here and put me out of my misery I would really appreciate it?  _

God, he was such a fuckup.

After a while of counting the ceiling tiles and hating himself, the washer beeped. Lance pulled himself to his feet to change it over to one of the dryers, wondering what was going to happen when he went back up. Would Hunk and Keith be waiting for him with an eviction notice or something? Okay, that wasn’t likely, since they wouldn’t even know what he’d really done to them. But, worst case scenario- and this one  _ was  _ likely- would nothing have changed at all since he left? Would they wake up and still be in thrall?

Lance shuddered quietly. Forget thinking about  _ that.  _ He prayed to every god he could think of that that wouldn’t be the case.

The dryer cycle didn’t take as long as the washer cycle, and eventually Lance was standing there with a freshly dry jacket and no more excuses.   
He took the stairs on the way back up, just to drag it out a little bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> i know the headcanon about lance liking beyonce is really overused in the fandom but like... listen who DOESN'T like beyonce tbh
> 
> by the way this is the song lance was singing in the shower, go listen to it, it's a bop  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZZ8V2AFUq0


End file.
